Edge of Fear
by Tobi is a good boy
Summary: Laurie discovers a man, dead, beyond the Wall. She goes to Winterfell to investigate, but is mistaken as a man, a Wilding refugee. Her visions of The Cold Ones are becoming stronger each day. She must warn them before it is too late. Part 1 of the Egde Series. Some eventual JonxOC Rated M.
1. The Cold Ones

_A Song of Our Fathers_

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones or the song, 'A Song of Our Fathers' by Explosions in the Sky.

* * *

ONE: THE COLD ONES

In the midst of frozen tress, she could sense the presence of the Cold Ones, even in the chill northern air. The snow crunched loudly beneath her boots, even the sound of her breathing seemed loud. Laurie's hand gripped the hilt of her father's sword, as she neared the clearing of dense trees. Long silver chains of ice hung from tree branches, ringing as she passed through them.

Here, the presence of the Cold Ones grew stronger still. Their presence felt like a constant shadow, here in the lands beyond the Wall. The cold biting through her thick robes was not the cold of Winter.

Then, she saw it.

The body of a man was sprawled out in the snow.

Warily, she edge towards the dead man. Her movements, though quiet to most men, seemed loud in the silence of the frozen trees.

Piss and blood stained the snow around him a crimson red. The copper stench of blood clung in the air. In the man's right hand, was a twisted metal blade.

_Only something unnatural could have the strength to twist a metal blade so._

The man's eyes were bulbous, staring out into the great forest in terror. They said that the last image men saw before them was imprinted forever in their eyes.

All she could see was terror and her own pale face reflected back.

She shivered, not from the cold, but because of the unnerving stare of the dead man.

His body had been turned, as if in a hurry.

It was the Wilding's custom to burn bodies, and this body had not been burned. Nor had the eyes been closed, as was the Watch's custom for those who were found dead in the snow.

The snow and cold would bury the body anyway, so graves were pointless, here in the North. Ice was already forming over the exposed part of his body. Snow, also was already forming a coffin of sorts around him.

She knelt down, feeling the sticky blood and piss cling to her trousers.

_He must have been killed not too long ago._

With her gloved fingers, she carefully closed the man's eyes. There was a deep terror in them, still. Death had not faded his fear of whatever had killed him.

Scanning the forest floor, she could just make out the tracks leading towards the Wall.

_They were at least two days old, at least._

At this rate, she would never be able to reach whoever the man was and question him.

She made her way back to her horse, a small, furry beast Great branches rustled and twanged as she made her way out of the clearing.

Laurie swung herself into the saddle, pulling on the reins, following the footprints in the snow towards the wall.


	2. Winterfell

_A Song of Our Fathers_

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones or the Explosions in the Sky song 'A Song of Our Fathers.'

TWO: WINTERFELL

* * *

Jon Snow watched as the young man pulled down his leather hood, to reveal shoulder length black hair with a stripe of white. The young man was smaller than Jon, more lithe in figure.

The man's grey cloak was stained and worn from use, the leather boots also looked the same. Tied around his arm was a black armband. Perhaps, Jon thought to himself, this was one of the famous Rangers from the Night's Watch.

Jon continued to watch the newcomer as he entered Winterfell. On the man's back, there was strapped a fine curved bow. He could also see a fine ivory headed knife hanging from the man's belt-not often worn by Wildings or peasants, unless they were stolen.

The man's eyes met Jon's- eyes so pale blue that they were almost silver in this light.

"Excuse me," the man said in a soft voice, "I seek the Lord of Winterfell on urgent business from the Wall. Could you take me to him?"

Jon stood from his perch. "Certainly, mi-lord."

The young man laughed, kindly. "Do I look like a lording to you?"

Jon looked down at the young man. It seemed to him that despite the garb the man wore, that he was still young. Perhaps even the same age as him, or Robb. His face was pale, govered in grime and sweat.

Jon shook his head uncertainly. In silence, the pair walked to his father's council chambers.

Inside, they were still preparing for the King's visit. Decorations were still being hung from the walls in the harsh stone castle.

His father was sat at the head of the room, at a large wooden table. He looked weary and was stroking his greying beard. His father's head looked up in surprise when he saw Jon enter the room.

Usually, Jon tried to stay out of his father council's. He would much rather watch from afar. Or even go to Maester Luwin's lessons.

His father's deep voice rang within the room: "Speak, stranger."

The young man bowed slightly, "Lord Stark. I seek a man who deserted from the North a few days ago so as to question him."

"That man was executed a few days ago. There was nothing he could have spoken to you, except madness."

At his father's words, the young man sighed and swallowed, speaking: "Then I ask your Lordship permission to look at the body, for there are many signs I can read from the Dead."

His father looked at the man sharply. "Why are you so keen to see this man? Are you one of the Night's Watch?"

For a moment, the young man did not answer.

"No, I am not of the Night's Watch."

The young man raised his head. His words echoed in the hall. "Winter is coming, Lord Stark. That is why I seek that man."


	3. Trick of the Light

A Song of Our Fathers

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones

THREE: Trick of the Light

Ned Stark turned to face his wife. From her expression, he could tell he looked weary and tired. It was the look of a wife. Gods knew that he and Cat's marriage did not start with love, just with duty. As the summers and years passed, they had grown into a love of sorts, still bound by their duty to one another.

"What sort of trick is this?!" He stroked his beard, feeling the long bristles underneath his fingertips. He would have to shave soon or Cateyln would complain about the long bristles of his beard. He still wore his leather riding boots, caked with mud. Sweat clung to back of his neck, despite the cool weather.

Cateyln, in reply, sighed. "I do not know, Ned." There was tiredness in her voice.

Cateyln's long red hair was beginning to fade now, after the years. It was tied back in a long braid, some strands loose around her worried face. Her lips were pursued in a thin line. She wore no paint on her face or lips, unlike the ladies in the South.

He paced the room of their quarters. Their quarters were not the plush luxury of the lords of the South, but made comfortable with large hangings on the wall for insulation. Large rugs were spread across the wooden floors. A fire burned in the grate, casting shadows on the stone walls.

Ned had never liked the business of politics; the stern leadership of the north had come uneasily to him. He had learnt, over the years, how to be a dutiful lord. His brother was the one that was supposed to be the Lord of Winterfell. It had come more easily, naturally to his brother.

"Could this man be sent as a spy?" His voice was quiet in the room, the fire crackled in the hearth.

Catelyn was silent for a while. The threat of Mance Rayder lurked on both their minds. Indeed, so did the contents of letter, now burnt away to ash in the fireplace.

"Benjen," she said, "He may yet come to the King's Feast. Ask him about this man."

"Aye," Ned sat upon the bed beside his wife. "That is what I shall do then."

X

The morning was still young when Laurie stepped out into the main courtyard. Her breath came out in smoky fog. Despite being this far south, she still wore her bow and quiver strapped over her grey cloak. She felt uncertain, uncomfortable. Laurie was used to the cold, stark barren northern waste of snow beyond the wall. The hustle and bustle, even this early in the morning perturbed her. Some of the merchants gave her odd looks, but shook their heads and muttered lowly under their tongues.

Laurie was used to odd looks. Her hair, with its' white streak, made her often the butt of jokes. She tucked a strand behind her ear.

In the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar grey and brown falcon sitting upon the battlements, greeting the morning with a cheerful chirp.

_He had followed her then, this far south._

Pursing her lips, she whistled, tapping her shoulder. The falcon flew swiftly down, landing softly on the padded leather armour on her cloak. Yellow talons gripped her shoulder.

"Have you come to see then?" she asked, out loud.

The bird cocked its sleek head; its beady eyes seemed to sparkle in response to her words. His feathers were a soft brown, tipped with white.

Lord Eddard had granted her leave to view the body of the deserter. It had been given grudgingly and with much looks of suspicion, but it was permission nonetheless.

The man had been buried a few days ago, but his body would have not decayed too much that she could not interpret some signs still left upon it. The body had been buried in the common burial grounds, a few miles westwards from Winterfell.

Something pricked at her ears, the footsteps of someone trying too hard to be quiet. She could hear the loud breaths behind her.

She turned, only to see the young man who had met at the gates of Winterfell.

"Boy, are you stalking me?"

The young man she laughed uncertainty. His grey eyes were so dark that it seemed to her that they were black. "How did you know it was me?"

"I could hear you, boy" she responded quickly. The youth was tall, with curly black hair, the fresh growings of a beard upon his face. His face reddened, he looked downwards at his feet for a moment before meeting her eyes again. They glanced over at the bird on her shoulder.

"Is he yours?" he asked, gazing at the bird curiously.

"He's…a friend," Laurie replied. "My friends call me Laurie," she said, holding out a gloved hand. After a moment, the youth shook it.

"Jon Snow," he responded, his dark eyes meeting hers.

The falcon screeched, its' long talons pressing tighter into her shoulder. It's caws screeched loudly into the cool summer air.


	4. Knife Edge

A Song of Our Fathers

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones

* * *

_The babe, startled, opened its' eyes, blinking in the heavy, brilliant white light. All round it laid thick white snow. It began bawling, hungry for the milk of its mother. _

_Laurie began to tread towards it, her feet heavy in the snow. Her breath did not come out in steam, which was odd. From here, all she could see was the endless snow and a small babe, left. It's wails echoed throughout the empty landscape._

_A figure emerged from the white snow._

_Laurie forced her body to stay still. Her heartbeat seemed to be the only sound, screaming. _

_The figure was a long, black shape, with a crown made out of silver icicles shaped like thorns around its head. A thin arm reached for the babe, touching it briefly. The babe screamed, wailing at the sudden chill it now felt._

_Laurie screamed, as she too, felt the chill running through her body like wildfire._

_The figure snapped its' head to look at her, the eyes the colour of ice. _

Laurie awoke with a start, sweating profusely and tears on her cheeks. The bed covers stuck to her body, damp with sweat. She gulped in a couple of breaths, trying to get used to her surroundings.

Her room was small, a rented bed above the smithy, paid with the small amount of coin she had on her person. It was made warm from the heat of the forge. Morning's light spread in as thin trickle through one of the windows. Her cloak, dagger, bow and arrows were set underneath. There was no sign of the falcon.

_He must be out, hunting. _

She threw off the covers. She had worn her boots to bed, out of habit. It did not do well to not be prepared, in the waste of the North.

Grabbing her cloak, bow and arrow she headed out of the window and onto the roof for fresh air.

Breathing deeply, she inhaled the fresh scent of morning.

Opening her eyes, she padded along the roof, until she looked down into the training yard and straight into the eyes of Mance Rayder.

X

"Joffery is an ass," Jon scowled, looking down at the prince in his fine livery. Arya giggled, her eyes also on the prince.

"I bet I could beat him," she said. Jon ruffled her brown hair.

"I have no doubt," he replied to his feisty half-sister, his eyes watching the Prince carefully.

Prince Tommen and Bran struck again their wooden practice swords, Bran hitting Tommen's padded stomach. The fat little prince rolled on the dirt ground of the training yard.

Suddenly, there was a whistle of an arrow, and a cry of pain from a man whose knife clattered onto the dirt floor.

It was a knife meant for Joffery.

From on top of the wall flipped Laurie, his white streak seemed to glow with anger, firing another arrow quickly into the leg of a man behind Robb. He rolled as he landed, grey cloak flying out from behind him.

Than man screamed, falling to the ground, clutching his leg. Blood stained the dirt floor.

Laurie stood, his bow fletched again with another arrow, pointing it towards a bystander.

"Mance Rayder!" He yelled, and even from here, Jon could feel the venom in the man's voice.

"Shoot," the bystander replied, calmly, "And I shall have both the Prince and the Stark boy killed."

Suddenly, another man was holding a long knife to Joffery's neck. Another, had a dagger aimed for Robb's stomach, holding his hair with a gloved hand. Robb struggled against the hold.

Beside him, Arya pressed herself into him. Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He could not do anything, not from up here.

In a movement so fast that even Jon found it difficult to follow, Laurie turned, fired an arrow at Joffery's assailant. He was a trained warrior, better than any other Jon had ever seen. The assailant dropped to the floor, an arrow through his shoulder, blood dripping from the wound.

The other man, holding Robb, let go a ferocious roar, temporarily releasing Robb from his grasp. Robb hit the man with his fist, causing him to sprawl on the floor.

"I yield, I yield!" the attacker whimpered, kicking up dust with his boots.

Laurie turned to face the crowd once more. He held the bow in one arm, the other raised towards his quiver. Jon could sense that he was examining the crowd, looking for any more attackers.

Both Tommen and Bran were frozen in place. Bran still held the wooden practice sword, and held it in front of him bravely. Tommen's wooden sword rolled in the dirt as he clutched onto Joffery's robes.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ser Rodrick growled through his teeth, his hand at his sword.

"What else, if not for war?" replied Laurie, his stance wary.

Robb lunged towards Laurie, his fist at the ready. Laurie rolled and ducked, kicking Robb onto the ground.

"I am not your enemy, Wolfing," Laurie said, rising.

Robb, sprawled out onto the ground, kicked Laurie viciously in the chin. Laurie flew backwards, onto the ground. Robb unsteadly rose to his feet,

"My enemies are those that would harm my family," Robb growled towards Laurie. Robb stood above Laurie. "Surrender your weapons."

Laurie dropped her bow, stretching out his hands in surrender.

"What's going to happen? Jon?" Arya's voice came to him, as if from a distance.

"I do not know," Jon replied, looking down from the tower.


	5. Trial

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones

* * *

Laurie was forced to kneel, her hands clasped in chains.

At the high table sat Lord and Lady Stark, as well as the King and Queen. Eddard Stark had a haggard look upon his face. Brandon Stark also sat at the high table, dressed still in his black robes of the Night's Watch. The Queen regarded her coldly, blue eyes flicking over her.

"I will speak plain," Eddard began, "Do you know why you have been brought forward thus?"

She swallowed before replying, "I stand wrongly accused for the attempted murders of Prince Joffery and your son, Robb."

"Then you do not deny that you attacked both Joffery and Robb in broad daylight?"

"My intent was not to attack them, merely to protect them from Mance Rayder."

She saw the shock in both Eddard and Brandon's eyes. They shared a worried glance between each other.

_So my words have answered some of their suspicions._

The Queen spoke, her words venous. "You believe this _worm? _He tried to harm _our _child. _He _tried to _kill _the prince."

_He? _ Laurie had to fight to keep her face straight. _They think I am a man. Well, let them keep thinking that way. _

Laurie met the Queen's cold blue eyes. "Am I not allowed a witness in my defence?"

The Queen turned towards Eddard. "Lord Stark, you cannot surely allow-"

The King raised his hand, " Allow the man a witness, woman!" He tipped back a goblet of wine.

Laurie turned to face the solemn crowd gathered in the hall for her trial. Her eyes were only looking for one member of the crowd. His dark eyes met hers, watching her cautiously.

"I call upon Jon Snow, son of Eddard Stark, as my witness."

Jon Snow blinked at the mention of his name. There were some murmurs throughout the hall as the bystanders parted to allow him to pass.

"Jon," Eddard pinched his brow. "Please tell us all that has passed between yourself and this man."

Jon then spoke how he had seen Laurie-_Laurence, he called her_-the day before.

"Very well. We have heard your witness. You may go, Jon."

Jon shot her one last look before leaving.

Eddard sat back down at the high table. "The law requires that either you hang or you take the black."

"I will take the Black, Lord Stark, " replied Laurie, her eyes meeting his.


	6. The Wall

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones.

* * *

They had camped out in the woods, at least for the night. Tall oak trees offered shade from the weather- cold rain and sleets of ice rain which had followed them Winterfell. As they had travelled North, the cold had begun to settle in.

Jon carefully watched Laurie. He had made a makeshift bed beside the Imp, Tyrion Lannister. The dwarf had proved good company, and Jon preferred his company compared to the rest of the other recruits. The Imp was wrapped in furs upon furs, reading a book.

Laurie's back was resting on a tree, his bow on his lap, his long grey hood covering his face.

"I think it is a general rule, Snow, that those who have their hoods up do not wish to disturbed," Laurie murmured, opening his blue eyes to meet Jon's own. He lowered his hood; the starling white streak of his hair seemed to glow in the twilight of the forest.

Jon, startled that Laurie had realised he was watching him, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"If you're going to spy on someone, at least try not be so obvious at it. Even the damn Lannister makes a better spy than you, Snow." Jon noticed that Laurie's blue eyes twinkled in mirth as he spoke, indicating Tyrion with a slight incline of his head.

Jon turned his head to look at the Imp; who despite appearing to be engrossed in his readings, also had a look of amusement upon his face. Jon crossed his arms, scowling.

Laurie laughed, suddenly: "What? Are you afraid to be fraternizing with a so called traitor? Why, I am no better than those other men that you scorn!"

"I do not scorn them," Jon murmured in reply, avoiding the other man's gaze.

"Oh, but you do, Snow," Laurie patted the forest floor with a gloved hand beside him. "Sit with me awhile."

Reluctantly, Jon sat down on the forest floor beside the man. "Are you having me sit beside me to chide me like a child, Laurie?"

The man beside him shook his head. "No, I am having you sit beside me so that these men may have some peace, Snow." Laurie pulled his hood over his head and was silent, his chest rising and falling.

X

All the recruits were lined up in front of the Master of Arms, Ser Allister Thorne. Each was given wooden armour and a training sword. Laurie had turned down the wooden armour, but accepted the training sword grudgingly.

"Give me your names, ladies."

They went down the line, reciting their names, their crimes, where they were from .

"Jon Snow, Winterfell, volunteer," Jon murmured, meeting Throne's eyes..

"Ned Stark's bastard. " Throne grimly smiled, "Welcome to the Night's Watch, Lord Snow."

Jon's anger flared like a torch., he curled his fists into a ball and willed his facial expression to not betray his emotions.

Laurie, who was standing next to Jon, touched him lightly on the arm with his gloved hands.

"Your name, recruit," Throne pointedly turned to face Laurie.

"Laurence. I was born Beyond the Wall. Attempted Murder."

Jon carefully looked at Laurie. Under his breath, he whispered: "I didn't know you were born beyond the wall."

Laurie shot him a look: "You never asked, Snow."

"All right ladies, let's see what you can do!" Thorne shouted. He had the recruits parry off against him, singling him out as a target. All the meanwhile, he shouted crude things towards Jon. Anger flaring inside him, Jon used his anger and hurtled it at the other recruits, easily defeating them.

"Laurence, you're next."

Laurie grinned. He still wore the grey robe, which matched the grey snowy landscape around him. He dropped the training sword on the ground, the metal clanging as it fell to the floor.

Jon lunged to jab at him, Laurie dodged and rolled on the ground, drawing Thorne's sword from his own belt, rising behind Throne and pressing the tip of the sword to the man's throat. A bead of blood ran down Thorne's throat.

He allowed the sword to clatter onto the ground beneath Throne.

"I trained in the wilds of the North. I have survived there for ten and seven years. There is nothing you can teach me that I do not already know," spat Laurie. He pulled away from Thorne, returning back to the line of recruits.

Thorne's look of anger followed Laurie, his mouth set in a thin line. "You're dismissed, ladies! Go get yourselves cleaned up!"

Laurie whistled, his falcon swooped down and perched on the man's shoulders. "Your uncle wants you, by the way." He petted the falcon's grey head.

"Alright," Jon stood, looking at the man.

Was it him, or was he finding himself _attracted _to the man?

* * *

Thank you to all my favers/followers! I appreciate all your support for Edge of Fear! TOBI


	7. Oaths in the Dark

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own GOT

-Oaths in the Dark-

* * *

Out beyond the wall, the woods were quiet, even the wind barely whispered between the branches of the tall trees. The trio of recruits made their way, through the snow, towards the weirwood where they, including Jon, would make their vows. Dressed in thick black robes, fur cast round his shoulders, and walking at a good pace had staved off the worst of the cold. Ahead of them, Ghost padded through the woods, sniffing out scents with his keen nose.

Other men of the Night's Watch accompanied them, torches blazing bright in the night. Sam, beside him, huffed and puffed as he walked. He gave Jon a small, encouraging smile. Even though it seemed confident, waves of nervousness pervaded Sam's bravado. Jon himself felt nervous. He glanced behind him, into the long path of trees and the piles of snow that marked out their path.

A little behind him, in light leather boots and quiver slung on his back, walked Laurie. His eyes met Jon's for a brief moment.

Jon shivered a little, feeling the gooseflesh rise on his arms, but not from the cold.

The group had stopped, and he nearly landed in the back of one of the men. After regaining his balance slightly, he saw that they were in a small clearing with a circle of trees. The largest of them had dark red leaves that were the colour of blood. A great face, weeping red tears with a large open mouth was carved upon one of them. It reminded Jon of the heart tree at Winterfell, the great weirwood where his father had taught him about the Old Gods. For a moment, Jon had a brief pang of homesickness as he thought about his father, far away from the North and in the Red Keep. He swallowed hard, trying to shake such thoughts from his mind. He was about to become a Man, a Man of the Night's Watch no less.

"Kneel now and swear your oath," intoned one of the men, brandishing a torch.

Jon, Sam and Laurie all knelt before the tree. The cold snow beneath his knees did not bother him such much, they numbed his whole entire lower half as he knelt before the tall tree, the leaves draped like the long skirts of a woman's gown.

Jon took a deep breath and began to form his lips around the words of the Oath: "Night gathers, and now my watch begins."

The wind in the trees seemed to rustle as he spoke. Both Laurie and Sam murmured alongside him. Sam's gloved hands were folded tightly around themselves, trying to hide the nervousness that they all felt and shared in this one moment.

As the trio spoke, their words became clearer until they could be heard throughout the clearing: "It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, and father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. "

"I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

A hush fell upon the clearing as Jon waited for the traditional reply. To him, it seemed like the great tree above him almost nodded in acceptance of their oath, as if it could hear them speaking. Its' great boughs creaked as the wind whistled through the clearing. The long waited reply was almost lost in that moment, but Jon could hear it above the calling of the wind:

"Rise now, Men of the Night's Watch."

Awkwardly, Jon rose, clasping Sam first in a brotherly hug. They shared a smile, a slight laugh together.

Laurie gave Jon's arm a squeeze, patting him on the back rather hesitantly.

"Sweet Gods!" swore Sam, his complexion paling as he pointed a chubby finger to Ghost.

Jon turned, confused. _Did Ghost bring some game?_

The great white direwolf looked at him innocently, a white hand grasped in his jaws.

"Ghost," Jon called, outstretching his gloved hand. "Bring it here."

Striding forward, Ghost placed the cold, lifeless hand in Jon's outstretched hand. Even through the leather, Jon could feel that the hand was freezing, almost like a ball of snow and belonged to a person long dead.

Sam looked as if he was about to be sick, the colour of his face that the colour of grass.

"If there's a hand," murmured Laurie, "there must be a body nearby." His sharp eyes scanned the clearing, his hand almost reflexively going towards the bow strapped behind him.

Jon turned to Ghost's pale red eyes, so like the colour of the tears of the Heart tree. Somehow, he knew the direwolf would guess at his meaning. They shared a close bond, something Jon could not explain to anyone else.

The direwolf led the party to the cold corpse of a body, his pawprints making soft imprints in the white snow.

"I suppos' we 'ought 'ta get word tae Castle Black," one of the men eventually spoke.

Laurie hitched his quiver. "No, we ought to burn the body. It's unnatural. He's been killed the same way that those other Rangers were killed; by the White Walkers." The man shivered a little, the knife of silver in his hair glowing, his eyes darkening as if from a memory.

All the other men in the clearing grumbled at the mention of the White Walkers, some made the symbol of protection against evil on their chests.

"Still, we need tae go get word tae Castle Black; he was one of our own after all."

"I'll go; I know the paths the best," Laurie said, his eyes still upon the body.

One of the other men scoffed, "How do you even know the paths? You've never been ranging, you're just a green boy!"

Coolly, Laurie replied: "I lived here for ten and six years. I know the paths."

This seemed to quieten the man's protests and they, taking a torch to light their path headed southwards, to Castle Black.


	8. Wights in the Night

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones

-Wights in the Night-

* * *

It had taken them the most part of the day to take the half formed; torn bodies back to Castle Black on the wooden sleighs. The horses seemed skittish around the bodies, and it took them awhile to convince horses to take their burdens back to the fortress.

"Remember Snow, you're confined to quarters this evening," sneered Throne as Jon trudged back into the main courtyard of the Castle, still shaking the snow from his thick fur lined coat.

Jon tightened his fist, biting upon his tongue till he drew blood, the metallic taste filling his mouth.

Laurie touched his arm, lightly. "Come on, Jon, it's not worth it."

The other man's touch on his arm brought Jon back to reality. He shook himself, nodding, following the other man towards the great warren of barracks where the men slept.

Behind them, Throne smiled a self-satisfied smile as he watched the pair walk away.

"There is not a rule," Laurie's silver eyes met his, and Jon felt a sudden rush course through his body. Heat rose upon his cheeks and his neck as he gazed down upon the smaller, lither man.

"A rule?" he finally managed to say, wetting his lips as he spoke.

"I think, about you being allowed to have visitors," Laurie murmured quietly. He realized that the man's hand was still on his arm, and he was gazing at Jon in an almost gentle manner.

It was as if lighting had struck Jon, his whole entire body fizzed with sudden energy. There was of course, men who enjoyed…other men. He had seen Throne taking one of the younger recruits and sleep with him. In Winterfell, of course, there were some men who preferred men, but it was unspoken about. He realized that Laurie was suggesting…was suggesting that _he _would go to bed with him.

He blushed as he realised this, knowing his cheeks were glowing red. He could not lie that he thought the younger, lither man attractive.

Laurie was gazing at Jon attentively, long eyelashes fluttering, his eyes piercing, his lips curving deliciously.

"Alright," he whispered in agreement, "Later tonight."

The other man nodded, squeezing Jon's arm briefly before trotting in the direction of the stables.

X

Jon lay, nervously anticipating Laurie's arrival. Every footstep outside the door _could _be _his. _His stomach tied itself into knots

There was a quiet knock on the door.

He jumped upwards, opening the door. Laurie drew down his hood, revealing his short black hair, the white stripe vivid in the darkness.

"Come in," murmured Jon.

Laurie stepped into the doorway into Jon's rooms. Jon shut the door behind the man.

"Jon," the man began, but Jon's lips were on Laurie's cold lips as he drew the smaller man closer to himself.

Laurie pressed a hand to Jon's chest, breaking away from the heated kiss. "Jon, I-"

There was noise in the hallway and they booth froze.

"What was that?" whispered Jon, listening to the sound.

Laurie's eyes were wide. "A wight," he whispered. His breath seemed to come out in a fog.

He drew a sword from his belt. " I'll search the lower quadrants! You look after the Lord Commander!"

"Laurie," began Jon.

"Not now!" snapped the man, the steel reflecting the flames from the lit candles.

He nodded, obeying before flying down the hallway towards the Lord Commander's rooms.

* * *

Thank you to all my followers/reviewers! Please review!

TOBI


	9. Dead Men Walking

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own GOT, I own Laurie.

NINE: DEAD MEN WALKING

Jon raced in the bitter cold of the night towards the Lord Commander's quarters. Every shadow seemed to be darker, as if they were filled with the dark, ferocious things Old Nan used to speak of. He wished now he would have listened to her stories more, perhaps then he would have insisted on burning the bodies.

He could not think about the past now, he would not.

The door of the Lord Commander's quarters was open.

Jon's heart sunk in fear as he cautiously entered the rooms to find the furniture overturned, and low grunts from the bedchamber.

In any other situation, Jon would have hesitated. This time he did not, grabbing the hilt of his sword nervously.

He flung the door open- to reveal Commander Mormont struggling with the dead man, trying desperately to fight him off.

Jon grasped the Old Bear's robes, pulling him away from the Wight and pointing his sword towards the dead man. The blade cut off the man's hand, but did not stop its' advance. Its' eyes were unnaturally blue, as if cut from the purest ice. The body stepped towards him, willed by some unknown force.

Desperate, Jon remembered Laurie's words about burning the bodies and knew his sword was useless.

He managed to maneuverer himself close to the fireplace, where the warmth of the fire did nothing for the chill he felt within his heart.

It fell with a clatter onto the stone floor as Jon reached for the oil lamp that was kept beside the fireplace, and thrust it into the fireplace, clenching his jaw as the flames licked his hand. In a swift motion, he threw it at the Wight, who immediately caught alight, screaming a sound unlike Jon had ever heard.

The burning dead man fell out of one of the high overlooking balconies, burning as it fell.

"My Gods," murmured Mormont, pushing himself upwards, "So it is true. Dead men walk beyond the Wall."

"Laurie tried to warn us, My Lord" Jon replied, wincing as he spoke.

Mormont, in his own gruff way, tore one of his own garments and handed it to Jon so he could wrap his hand in it.

"See Maester Aemon about that hand and then rouse the others, Snow," he said. "We will have a Meet."

"My Lord, I am-"began Jon in protest as the door to the bedroom creaked open.

Mormont's eyes flashed in the firelight and quickly picked up Jon's forgotten sword, holding it fiercely.

The door was then kicked off its' hinges, Laurie holding a bow in hand, the white in his hair glowing fiercly.

"Good Evening, Commander Mormont, I am glad to see you well," he stated calmly, eyes flicking across the scene observantly.

"You alright, Jon?"

Was it Jon's imagination, or did the man's cheeks grow a shade of pink when their glances met?

Jon held up his hand, now wrapped in the makeshift bandage.

"I see you burnt the fucker," Laurie grinned broadly.


	10. Falcon's Flight

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own GOT, I own Laurie.

TEN: FALCON'S FLIGHT

Laurie walked into the training yard, holding the falcon with one gloved hand. The bird's head, unlike the other birds of prey kept in the Castle, was not hooded, leashed or clipped but wholly free. Around one its' thin yellow legs was a message.

She did not think that Winter would come so soon, or attack across the Wall in the Summer. He was mobilising for a war that would never end and that encompass the whole world in a never-ending cold.

Her father had trained the falcon, in the Wilds and had given it to her before he left her. It had become her only friend, in such the way that Ghost was Jon's companion, so was her father's falcon.

However, she felt that it was time to seek out her father.

She whistled, and the falcon flew off into the air, climbing up and up until it was no more than a speck in the sky.

"Messaging your wilding friends, Lawrence?" sneered Thorne from behind.

Laurie almost jumped in surprise, the man had been so quiet. "No, Thorne," she replied in her calmest voice, "My father."

Thorne raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice, "I saw you with the Bastard last night."

"Yes," Laurie replied crossing her arms. She fought the itch to bring a dagger to the man's throat.

Throne came closer to her; she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. "Perhaps you'd care to visit me."

Laurie smiled, "Oh, Thorne," she gripped his thinning hair in her hand and brought him close before smashing his forehead with her own and then using her body to throw him upon the ground. "Go to Hell."

She walked away from the man, back into the man compound of the castle. In the warmth of the refectory, she found Jon, alone.

His eyes were dark as he greeted her.

"You seem cheery," he said, drinking from his cup.

"I kicked Throne's ass for asking me to bed him," replied Laurie sitting down on the bench opposite the man.

Jon sputtered. "What?!" his eyes grew angry, from jealousy, she supposed.

"Jon, I-"

"Please, Lawrence, I..I know how you feel," he whispered. He gripped my hand within his own. "I….don't know how to respond, I don't know. I mean, I have never… I have never felt about a man this way."

Laurie gripped his hand tightly, "But Jon, I am not-"

The door suddenly burst open and Jon's hand slid away from her own. Samwell Tarly burst in, his cheeks puffed.

"Jon! Its' Maester Aemon wants to see you, he's got a letter for you!"

Jon's eyes met with her own briefly, lighting suddenly. He rushed over to Sam, giving the other man a friendly pat. "Thanks, Sam."


	11. Leaving the Nest

Edge of Fear

I do not own GOT, I own Laurie

* * *

Eleven: Leaving the Nest

Laurie paced anxiously as Jon was heavily questioned by the Lord Commander.

According to the plump Samwell Tarly, late in the night, Jon had left the relative safety of Castle Black to the South because of his father's death.

She scowled.

_Why didn't he tell me? _ She wondered, hand upon the pommel of her sword. _Perhaps it was because he could not bear to see my disappointment._

Like her, Samwell Tarly was pacing outside, his breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke. He gave her a smile, little nervous smile. There was still snow on his black robes and boots.

The door suddenly swung open and Jon came out, his face suddenly seemed older, more wearied. His eyes met hers, and she felt a sudden frisson of heat on her face.

"I am to stay," he announced, slowly.

Beside her, Samwell Tarly let out a sigh. "Well, that's good news, eh?" he as cheerfully as he could.

Jon's lips curled into a small smile, "I suppose. We are to leave tomorrow."

"Leave?" asked Laurie, watching the boy-no the _man- _carefully.

"To the North," Jon replied, "Beyond the Wall,"

Laurie pressed a comforting hand on Jon's arm, "Don't worry, Jon, we'll be there."

Jon looked away, before giving her hand the briefest of touches. "Thank you," he murmured, before turning away.

Laurie was about to go after him when Samwell touched her shoulder. "I would leave him be, for a while."

She shook her head, "Of course. He just learnt his father is dead."

She watched Jon walk away, hunched like a raven in his cloak and furs of black. "I will see if there is any news from my father."

With that, she turned away and climbed towards where the real ravens were kept. The steps were steep and icy, cut into the face of the Wall. Eventually, she came towards the sheltered cove where the birds were kept.

On little stands stood the tethered ravens, peering at her with their gem-like eyes. There was no hawk there amongst them, but this did not surprise her.

X

_Laurie watched as the hawk flew towards her, its' mouth bloody and foaming. It landed beneath her, dead, staining the snow a brilliant red._

_Behind the hawk, walked her father. _

_He was dressed as she had last seen him, in grey robes and grey armour with a bow much like hers strapped on his back. His eyes were the palest blue, icy and endless. _

_Hooks were driven into her father's body, with thick ropes leading to a person sitting upon a throne of ice, a crown of thick iron thorns upon his head. _

_Her father had become a Wight, a Cold One. Terror filled her heart; she wanted to scream but could not. Her mouth was frozen in place._

_The King fixed his terrible eyes upon her and she felt her heart stop, her heart freeze and saw her flesh turning cold, turning into one of them. Her head felt heavy as he made her a delicate crown of icy flowers. It burned the flesh on her head, it was so cold._

X

Jon watched as Laurie readied his horse, strapping weapons carefully upon the beast. Unlike the other horses, Laurie had chosen a smaller, pie-bald horse with shaggy hooves and wore no spurs. The man had lived and was born in the Wilds of the North and seemed the least nervous out of the company preparing to North.

However, Jon felt a slight wariness in the man's stance and preparations for the oncoming journey.

"Here," he said, tightening the straps which held the man's supplies to his horse. Their hands briefly touched, for a moment, Jon felt as if he was burning on fire.

"Are you nervous?" Laurie asked, flicking his eyes towards the Wall that loomed above them.

"Yes," he whispered, "I would be a fool not to be. I have wanted my whole life to be a ranger, and yet, now, I am not so sure. I am ready to do my duty, though, for mine and my family's sake."

"Good," replied Laurie, squeezing Jon's hand before swinging himself onto the saddle. "It's time to leave the nest."

* * *

AN: Thank you all! I am amazed at the support this fic has gotten and wanted to thank you all! Please review guys :) My love, TOBI.


	12. Tread Softly

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own GOT, I own Laurie

TWELVE: Tread Softly

* * *

The group had made their way slowly northwards, mostly in silence. Trees as tall as houses leaned in the bitter wind, their frozen leaves rattling. Laurie mostly walked, leading his horse behind him, his other hand always ready to draw his bow. The white snow made the man's vivid stripe of white hair seem like it was made of the same stuff.

Jon wondered how she could have lived like that, constantly on guard. The man never spoke about his upbringing in the north, and Jon had no wish to press the man. He walked beside Laurie, his breath coming it in billows of white smoke.

Mormont signalled with a hand for the convoy to stop. "We turn east here for another day, towards Craster's Keep. Let's keep moving."

Laurie's mouth twitched into a sudden frown at Mormont's words.

"What is it?" he whispered to the man, keeping his voice low lest Mormont overheard the conversation.

The man turned towards him, distaste evident from his words: "You will see. My father has told me many _things _about _that_ man. I think you will see them for yourself, Snow."

Puzzled, Jon mounted his horse and coaxed it into a trot, moving towards Sam. Sam gave him a nervous smile, his hands tightly holding onto the reigns of the horse. The height made him nervous, Jon knew.

"What was he saying?" asked Sam, his brows furrowed in concern.

"Nothing," Jon replied.

"You two are-" here Sam paused, "close. Does he ever speak about growing up here?"

Jon shook his head, trying to hide his blush. He could not hide the fact that he…enjoyed the other man's company. "No, never."

Sam tutted, "That's a shame, because I've got all these questions from this book about..."

Jon let Sam's voice drift over him as their convoy moved ever northward.

X

Jon rolled out Mormont's pack first, then his own nearby to Laurie's. Like some of the more experienced rangers, he left his sword unsheathed and bow nearby. His hood was drawn over his face, hiding it in the shadows, his breath coming out steadily. Jon laid himself down beside Laurie, trying to get to sleep despite the cold.

Bloodcurdling screams awoke Jon suddenly.

Instantly, he reached for his sword beside him and searched for the cause. Like him, several others of the men had gathered their swords.

Beside him, Laurie was screaming, clutching at his throat convulsing as if someone was choking him.

"Laurie!" Jon shook the man roughly to wake him, slapping him on the face.

He roused from this, his eyes bleary. "Jon?" he croaked.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked, holding the man close.

Laurie nodded, "It was only a dream, Jon," he said, leaning into Jon.

"What did you dream of?" Jon asked.

"What else?" The man's eyes darkened, "Winter."

* * *

AN: Thank you! Thank you all! Please follow, fave, review etc! My love to you all, TOBI


	13. Craster's Keep

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

THIRTEEN: CRASTER'S KEEP

* * *

Laurie gripped her quiver in her gloved hand, her breath spilling out as white mist. She wanted to keep her weapons close at hand. Her father had given her enough warnings about Craster that she normally had stayed well away, or found camp elsewhere. Not that Craster would be likely to harm her whilst in disguise as a man, but if he found out…

She shuddered.

Beside her, Jon kept a close eye. He had obviously been disturbed by her screams in the night, but did not question her further. The other men regarded her warily, lest they somehow catch her dreams.

Ahead of them was Craster's Keep, which sat on a low hill in the midst of tall trees. The keep itself was a long wooden hall, with a place for sheep, pigs and horses. Smoke rose from the hall itself, taking with it the scent of freshly cooked meat.

Commander Mormont ordered them to dismount and to lead their horses to the paddocks whilst he spoke to Craster himself.

The men and herself led their horses to the paddock, where thin girls took them silently, brushing them down and giving them hay.

"Be careful," Laurie murmured to the girl, "He's feisty."

The girl nodded her head mutely, taking the reins from Laurie's hands. The gelding followed the girl calmly and without protest, huffing through his nostrils.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked, jumping off his own horse. His hand touched her shoulder. It took all her strength not to lean into his warm touch.

She nodded. "Tired, that's all."

"No," a look of concern passed his boyish features, "I mean last night."

Laurie sighed, "I have terrible dreams, Jon. My father used to call it the Sight."

"You see things? What sort of things?"

"White walkers, winter, death," Laurie shrugged in an attempt to be nonchalant, "The usual."

Jon tutted, his hand twitching on her shoulder, his eyes flickering with desire to pull her closer. Laurie met his eyes:

"We should get to Lord Mormont. He'll be wondering where we are, Snow."

She said his last name playfully, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension between them.

Jon's lips curved into a smile. "Yes, we should."

They made their way, alongside Sam towards the long hall of Craster's Keep. Inside, the other men were gathered in the Keep, warming themselves by the fires. A pot bubbled over the fire, the scent of roasted meat and sweaty men cloyed in the air.

Lord Mormont sat in a chair beside Craster himself.

Laurie's mouth twitched further in the distaste at the sight of the man. All her father's descriptions were correct: he was a fat man, wrapped in furs, and balding.

He stood as soon as all the men were gathered within the hall : "I have come to an agreement with Craster here. He will shelter us for three nights. However, there are some rules. One: No touching the women-folk unless you want to lose your hand. Two: you must work for your keep. Three: No straying at night beyond the dike of the Keep. Do you understand?"

There was a chorus of low murmured 'aye, milords.'

Mormont's brow furrowed. "Do you understand?"

This time the chorus was louder.

"Good, that is all. Tarly, Snow and Lawrence, over here. The rest of you are dismissed."

Sam, Jon and Laurie made their way towards Lord Mormont and Craster himself.

"Samwell, Craster has some accounts that he would like taken care of. You know how to read and write, correct?"

Samwell blushed, "Aye, my Lord."

"Very well. One of Craster's wives will show you where the accounts are kept."

Sam bowed, "Very well, my Lord."

Another slim blonde girl approached silently, waving towards Samwell. He followed her, leaving the hall.

"This is Jon Snow, my Steward."

Jon inclined his head politely towards Craster. Craster kept chewing on his meat, his fat eyes flicking to Jon's briefly.

"And Lawerence."

Laurie did not bother to bow, instead she gripped the strap of her quiver tightly.

"What no family name?" Craster's eyes flicked to hers, he took in her grey garb. "Had one of you grey cloaks here six months ago."

"Did he give you a name?"

The man's beady eyes flickered. "You grey cloaks never give names, or if you do, they are false ones. He called himself Nightjar, if that's any help."

Laurie stilled. That was her father's sign; a bird that nestled in the ground and could be found in the more southern parts of the Northern Waste.

"Did he pass on any messages or items?"

Craster slapped his fat thighs, and another mute girl came beside him. Her face was sallow and pale, her eyes deep and hooded. "He said you would come. And here you are, with a flock of crows in your wake! Bring this grey cloak his things!"

She left as silently as she had come, evidently to get whatever her father had stored here.

A few minutes had passed as Craster chewed on a piece of bone, gristle dripping down his chin.

The girl returned, with things wrapped in a grey blanket.

Laurie unravelled it, finding a slim curved silver war bow with a quiver full of obsidian tipped arrow-heads, the shafts made out of steel. There was also a green horn, decorated with images of the seasons dancing. At the bottom she found a delicate Valerian steel knife, which glinted dangerously in the torch-light.

Craster's eyes widened as he saw the unravelled contents, "What a treasure you have there!"

"No," she breathed, "It is not a treasure. It is for war. An unending, ceaseless war of Winter."

* * *

AN: Thank you all! I apologise for being away for so long! Please review, follow, etc :) Thanks for all your support. Love, TOBI.


	14. Seperation

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own GOT, I own Laurie.

* * *

FOURTEEN: SEPERATION

A few nights later, Jon's wrist grabbed her own as she tightened her saddle onto her pie-bald.

"You didn't tell me," he hissed, anger in his dark eyes.

"Tell you?" She looked at him quizzically. There was fierceness in his eyes and manner. _Ah. _

"I thought it was better you found out yourself," Laurie murmured quietly.

"That Craster murders young boys? And gives them to the Wights?"

She nodded, checking that her father's bow was safely tucked into her saddle, the knife hung securely beside her simple sword.

"You knew! You knew this whole entire time! Mormont knows. How can you just stand there?"

"It is one of the beliefs of the Old Gods, Jon. If we intervene, Craster would not welcome us. It is necessary to our survival at this point. There may come a time when the Gods punish him for the crime. There is no law here, in the North but the old ways."

Jon's anger did not subside even as the days passed as the Night's Watch rode towards the Fist of the First Men. Samwell Tarly seemed to share his anger, but his anger was more subdued.

The great train of war-horses, not used to the cold and to the treacherous outcrop of hills and jagged rocks that led to the Fist of First Men, struggled. Laurie's own, smaller pie-bald with its' shaggy hooves managed to navigate the way easier.

This journey seemed to wane down Jon's anger as he rode his own large war-horse beside her. The icy wind whipped at his dark hair, specks of snow sticking to his beard and eyebrows.

Eventually, he spoke to her shouting over the wind, "How could you live in this?!"

She grinned, spurring on the pie-bald. "We did not live out in the open, snow. My father would not have us live like Wildings. No."

Samwell, a few paces behind them, his great cheeks puffed red, yelled: "Did you ever see the Library?"

Laurie turned her head in surprise, "No, but my Father-"

"HALT!"

Lord Mormont held up a first ahead. The great train came to a halt behind him.

Jon was the first to halt his own horse beside Lord Mormont."My lord?"

Lord Mormont, sat astride his own pie-bald, shaggy hooved horse, shouted above the ferocious wind: "We wait here."

"Here, my Lord?"

Lord Mormont nodded, pointing ahead in the flurry.

In the distance, a figure was coming towards them.

Eventually, the figure became more clear. He was dressed similarly to a Wilding, except from the black colour of his garb. Even Laurie recognised from the descriptions of the other men and her father the figure of Qhorin Half-Hand.

Lord Mormont, Jon and Qhorin spoke for a while in low hushed voices. Lord Mormont clasped Jon on the shoulder. His eyes flashed towards her, and she felt a sudden Jon.

Jon paced over to her his eyes dark. He clasped her shoulder.

"Don't," she whispered, "Don't say-"

"I'll see you soon," he replied, his lashes long and dark, his breath warm on her face.

"Fare well, Snow."

His hands dropped from her shoulders, and he turned away from and her and towards Qhorin.


	15. Hide or Flee

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones, I own Laurie.

FIFTEEN: HIDE OR FLEE

* * *

The group had turned at the pike, making their way onto the raised outcrop of land named the Fist of Men. They had begun to make provisions to camp, digging latrines and sorting fires and scouts. Old Mormont was coordinating them all, ordering them about in his own, gruff manner.

Samwell pressed a hand to her shoulder. "He'll be alright. Qhorin is a good Ranger." He had been barely able to contain his excitement at the fact that he was standing in the same place as the First Men.

Laurie nodded, pressing the shovel firmly into the ground. There was a loud scrapping noise as she did so. "There must be some stone underneath the snow." Scrapping her shovel, she managed to clear a rough square, revealing a paving stone with a rusted metal ring.

Samwell breathed. "This could be something that First Men used to own! I read about it!"

The other men in the group mocked him, muttering behind Sam: "I read about it!"

Samwell knelt down beside her, pulling on the ring, lifting the stone up.

Inside was a cache of dragon glass; the dark glass glimmering in the light.

Samwell's pudgy face turned into one of disappointment. "Dragonglass."

"It has its' uses," replied Laurie, "I would keep it."

He nodded, sheathing one of the shards into his thick cloak. "We still have at least ten of these to dig," he huffed.

"Well," Laurie grinned, "we better get on with it before dark."

Slowly, they managed to dig at least ten latrines out of the snow and rock. Sweat gleamed on Samwell's brow despite the cold. The other men in the group smiled at a job well done.

"Come on," Laurie picked up her shovel, her eyes looking at the sky, "We should make our way back to the camp."

"Not before we've tested 'em," one of the men joked.

The wind howled, almost like the sound of a horn in the distance.

The men stopped what they were doing, hands immediately on their swords.

"Qhorin? Back already?"

There was another blast of the horn and the men beside her drew their swords.

Laurie shivered, feeling the icy presence of the Cold Ones. She pulled at Samwell's sleeve. "Let's go."

A third blast sounded.

Samwell's face paled, the other men looked green with sickness. "White Walkers," he breathed.

"Samwell," she urgently tugged on his robe, "Let's go!"

The other men spat at her and him, "Cowards!" Their swords glinted dangerously, their stances ready to defend.

"You are fools! They are the Undead, the Cold Ones! You cannot fight them! Hide or flee!"

She dragged the unwilling Sam with her, behind a large stone. Out of the mist came the Cold Ones, and with them the King of Winter.

* * *

Thank you all to my followers and favorites! Please review as well! Love, TOBI.


	16. Fire on the Fist

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not Game of Thrones, I own Laurie.

SIXTEEN: FIRE ON THE FIST

* * *

Riding astride a rotten horse, the King turned his icy blue eyes towards them. His gaze seemed to linger on hers for longer, and his fingers gripped the long sword in his hand, as if to strike.

But he did not strike, instead, he rode on towards the South and towards the Fist.

Laurie pressed a hand over Sam's mouth.

"Don't move," she hissed under her breath.

He finally was still.

Behind the King were his subjects, all dead, all Cold Ones like him. They moved soundlessly past them.

Only the King rode a horse.

She rose from behind the rock, drawing her bow and firing towards the line of the oncoming dead. The dragon-glass tipped arrow did its' work, digging deeply into the skull of one of the Cold Ones.

It shattered into a thousand pieces, screaming across the landscape.

"Come on," she gripped the back of Sam's cloak, pulling him backwards into the mist and towards the outcrops of the Fist.

He ran beside her panting, sweating.

"Were those-?!"

"Not the time, Tarly!" she yelled back, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

They passed many of the dead bodies of their former companions littered on the snow. There was no time to mourn them; such was their speed up the steep incline.

Here they found the men in panic, shouting and crying. Mormont, in the distance, was shouting orders, attempting to keep order.

Laurie realised that the group was split: Mormont was on one side of the Fist, and they on the other.

There was none here that could lead them, they were all too panicked.

She would have to lead them.

Her breath trembled at first, but then she found her voice, pitching it above the noise of the battle: "To me! Arms!"

The men responded blindly, as they had been taught to the voice of command.

"Bring some fire and set a ring of fire around of us. They fear fire! Do NOT let it go out, understand?! Understand?! If anything comes close shoot it in the head or heart!"

The men and she quickly got to work, breaking apart the carts, any wood, or any extra objects that could be set ablaze and built and circle of flame that surrounded them. Soon, the fire blazed high and bright, so bright that it broke through the mist.

It was a long night; each man had a watch to ensure the fire would keep burning till morning.

Morning came, and the fire had burned down to pale imitation of what it had been before. The Cold Ones were gone, but had left destruction in their wake.

Mormont and the other survivors came towards them, each tired and grim. In total, almost a third of the force that had come on the expedition had died.

"Bring the dead and burn the bodies on what's left of Laurie's fire," Mormont ordered with a sigh, pinching his brow.

"My Lord, we should retreat and warn the South about this," said Laurie. "It is madness to continue."

"Alas, you are right, lad. I can only assume that Stark was killed by the Wights. We will retreat back to the Wall. I am afraid I made a grave mistake, coming here after all."

"You did not know," Laurie replied.

He eyed her, "You lived here, did you not?"

She nodded.

"I believe then, of all people, you knew the most of what we were up against. Why did you not deter my madness?"

"It was not my place, my Lord," she replied. "My father said that the North tells us who we truly are."

"Ha! It has taught us a good lesson indeed then."


	17. Retreat

Edge of Fear

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own Game of Thrones.

SEVENTEEN: RETREAT

The long journey back to Craster's was mostly silent. They had recovered as much as they dared, but then men mumbled against Mormont.

Laurie shut her mouth when they asked her opinion of Mormont's expedition. They eventually learned she would not talk, and nor would Sam.

The seasons were changing.

Even beyond the Wall, the chill wind seemed to grow more icier. There would be a storm and soon.

She urged her horse forward, up towards Mormont, a feeling of dread knawing in her stomach.

"The sooner we make for Craster and the Wall, the better, My Lord."

He looked down at her, his eyes scanning her face. "Aye, lad. We're two days from Craster's with all this load."

"If we leave the unessential items, we would half our journey time, My Lord. And if the men knew they would be getting a share of Craster's ale at the end, I think it would appease their mood."

Mormont stared for a moment. "You sense it then?"

She again said nothing for a while. "The men talk, My Lord."

"And you?"

"I will do whatever you think wise, My Lord," she answered.

"That is a soldier's answer, Laurence."

"Aye, My Lord," she replied.

"You lived here for ten and seven years. Tell me what that man would say."

"It was noble to search for your comrade. And it was right to search for the source. But in a war against the King of Winter, we are just playthings of the Gods. It will come to all the living, pitied against all the dead. We all must play our parts, my Lord."

"Alright. I will take your advice. We lighten our loads and half the journey time."

"Shall I tell the men, my Lord?"

He clasped a thick hand on her shoulder. She winced. She had twisted a muscle earlier in the fight and it still had not healed properly.

"Yes, lad."

She nodded and turned her horse around, relaying Mormont's orders. The unnecessary items were offloaded and stored as caches for the Rangers.

After that brief break, they managed to traverse the ardous journey in less than half the time.

Ahead of them lay Craster's and beyond that: the Wall.


End file.
